"Is this your way of telling me you two have decided to flaunt the rules of this experience, go behind your families' backs and run off together into the sunset?" I ask the very unkempt Erica and Enzo who have just invaded my room despite the no-fly order the palace guards have inflicted this evening. "If this is your way of asking me to stand up for you, I absolutely accept."

Enzo chuckles lightly, hesitant and nervous, but Erica is all business, steely face shining with a smile so plastered on I'm surprised it seems so natural. Trained since birth. It's given us both the time to get very good at what we do.

"I'm here to explain a situation to you and make a last ditch attempt to save my country, my sister, and myself," she says, stopping a few feet in front of me and resting her hand on her hip. "But I'm sure we can find a solution that works for everyone."

"What role do I have in saving your country, your sister, or yourself?" I ask, prickles travelling up the back of my neck as I do. There's probably only one way this can go.

"We aren't going to ask you to abandon your, umm, great aunt Gertie," Enzo says, shifting his gaze to Erica's confused eyes. "But we need to explain everything. That's all we're asking. You don't need to say yes, you just have to listen. Then you can decide."

"I know you have your own family and nation to consider as well, and I have no intention of cutting you off from your counsel, but I need to ask. Please let us explain the situation, and the proposition, before you shoot it down."

The two of them hold their breath, moving in sync as though something has shifted there, the gravitational pull of a new relationship bringing brightness to them the same way the tension of an old one is haunting my waking moments.

"As a friend," Enzo pleads. "Just give us a chance."

"I'm going to hate it."

"And if you do, that's that. No one's going to think anymore of it."

"I'd hardly be in a position for blaming you for following your heart in the face of everything else," Enzo says, eyes flitting involuntarily to the shy smile growing on Erica's pink face.

"And is that what this has to do with, then?" I ask them, certain we are about to be privy to a marriage proposal of a kind. "Are you here to ask me to marry you?"

"Goodness no! Not me!" Erica laughs, but it's hollow. "I'm just here to discuss politics and international relations and the like. You know? A normal evening among princes."

"As you wish." I sweep my hand across the room. "If we are standing on ceremony, please be seated. Can I offer you any refreshments?"

"In my own palace?" Erica asks, plopping down very indelicately onto my tallest couch. "Yes, please, actually. Can you get Cook to bring you some tiramisu? Father never lets them send any up to my room or Gemma's, so I have to sneak down whenever I want some. But I bet he'd send them here."

"I suspect you are correct," I agree. "As I am a guest. With absolutely no reason to have a half-clad pair of foreign persons in my rooms at this hour."

Enzo swallows hard. "Are we going to be in trouble?" He looks back over his shoulder like he's certain the guards outside the door have heard everything and are about to have him forcibly removed from the palace.

I wouldn't put that past the king either, if I'm being honest.

"Guards are mine." I tip my head to the door. "You have nothing to worry about."

His nod grows more vigorous as his head wraps around how different my experience is from his own, no doubt. No matter how much we talk, he doesn't seem to grasp how very different palace life is from his influencer experience.

"Your guards are mine," Erica adds helpfully. "The short one was my mother's favourite. You're in good hands, too."

Enzo nods, but Erica doesn't see because she's turned her whole body to face me and leaned forward to rest her elbows on what I assume must be her knees, but it's hard to see under that skirt.

"So, let's cut to the chase. I need you to agree to get engaged to my sister to forge an alliance between our two nations so we can alleviate the aggressive pressures of poverty at the bottom and buy Gemma time to take the throne." She says it all in one breath, as Enzo protests that this was not their plan.

She doesn't even pause to acknowledge him before adding, "And once Gemma is the queen, especially if I have been able to find someone to wed, the people will be much more accepting of Gemma's engagement falling apart amicably. And, of course, once she is queen, we can work to change the things that need changing without Father being able to interfere."

"Which is very necessary," Enzo adds, as though I'd never met the king of Tilcara.

Erica nods without looking at Enzo, but she does reach her hand over and rest it on his knee. "Of course. Gemma being queen is fundamental to all of this. Except we need to get there first and the only way to do that is to secure an alliance between our two nations, but—"

"My parents have made it very clear that no alliance will be achieved without a wedding," I sigh, scrubbing my hand down my face. "I know."

But with how poorly my last conversation with... my great aunt had gone, I'm not even sure there's anything to give up anymore. Her life would be better without me in it.

Erica, unaware of the internal turmoil, carries on with a bright smile. "And that wedding thing is part of why I'm here. Do you think your parents would allow a small sort of provisionary alliance upon an engagement? Or would we have to go all the way through to a wedding? Because obviously a wedding is off the table."

"A wedding is off the table?" Enzo and I ask in unison.

I admit to being a little confused, given that she proposed I become engaged to her sister not even fifteen seconds ago.

Erica spins to face Enzo and for the first time since she arrived her perfect smile falls off in favour of a look that clearly says 'we already talked about this, remember?'

"Right," Enzo says to me. "We'd only be arranging an engagement for as long as it is necessary to get everything in order. Once Gemma ascends the throne, we will not need to keep up pretences for her father any longer and you'll be free to do whatever you wish."

"And we've the resources in order to alert your, umm, who was it?" Erica asks Enzo.

"His great aunt, Gertie."

"Right. If you agree to this plan, we will alert your great aunt Gertie before we move forward with anything. So she'd be fully informed and aware that this is a sham engagement. Assuming you feel she can remain secretive with the information."

"She can," I say without thinking. "But she won't like it."

"Does she like your parents much?" Enzo pipes up, his voice like a slap across my face.

"You know she doesn't," I answer. "But I hardly see how her hating me as well would help anything."

And I hardly see how she'll forgive me for yet another affront to her. I hardly see how I will ever forgive myself for how she's being treated because of our relationship.

"She could come here as a guest in anticipation of your impending nuptials. A lady to attend your sister, perhaps. I will welcome her heartily into my family and one day, when you wed, you can remain here. We shall rule side by side, Tilcara and Manarola as one. She will never have to see your parents again. And neither will you, really."

She's exaggerating. Grossly. But she has a point about freeing us from some of my parents' control.

"They'd probably stop watching you so closely around her once they know you have a fiancée, too," Enzo agrees. "At least I know mine would."

He has a point. I don't think they care a lick whether I'm faithful to the wife I take as an alliance strategy. Which is disgusting, but true.

"So, what do you think?" Erica asks after a second, stopping me from spiraling about all the possibilities for the future.

"I don't know if I'll be able to deceive everyone effectively enough to actually pull this off," I admit.

What I don't admit is that the idea of pleasing my parents and the risk of adding tension to a relationship already pulled tight are pulling me away, no matter how logical and well-thought-out her plan might be.

"Think about it," Erica answers. "That's all I'm asking you."

"You know what's happening out where I'm from," Enzo reminds me. "This would ease the pressure there a great deal. I suspect your own nation as well would benefit from such an arrangement. I think your great aunt would understand the importance. And it can't be more of a sacrifice than she is making now. I'm certain you and Gemma could come to a beneficial arrangement for both nations."

"I need time to think," I say. "I can't make a decision right now. I need to think about this."

"Of course," Erica agrees, standing and pulling Enzo's hand into hers. "But if you do decide to help us, you'll need to let me know before the ball opens tomorrow. Because if Gemma doesn't have an engagement to announce, my father's going to do it for her."

"To the pile of wet cardboard known as Spencer, Duke of Caledon," Enzo adds. "Which."

I think we all shudder at that thought. But I can't be responsible for sparing her from him. I wasn't the one who—

"I know you didn't do anything to land us where we are," Erica says, hand on the door knob. "But that doesn't change the position we are all in. You have to decide for yourself. I know it's a wild proposition, and I wouldn't be here if I didn't think it was the best one for all of us."

And that's how they leave me. She doesn't even wait for the tiramisu I ordered. They just walk through the door and let it slam between us leaving me warring against myself over which is the bigger bomb they just dropped: the cuteness of the relationship developing between them, or the suggestion that I get engaged to—but definitely not marry—Gemma.

I have an impossible choice ahead of me.

It's annoying, though, because I know they are right.

An alliance with Tilcara is exactly what Manarola needs to remain stable and viable for future generations. I was convinced of that long ago. But unfortunately for me, there's no rule in my land that allows monarchs to be replaced by their offspring like there is here.

So no matter what I decide, I am stuck under the rule of my parents until they die. And no matter how much I do not like them right now, that is hardly something I wish for.

And they are insistent that the only way to achieve this alliance is to marry the princess of Tilcara. They prefer Erica for me, but I have no interest in either one. My heart is at home.

If I'm going to accept the engagement to Gemma, I'm going to have to break her heart and mine. And I'm just not sure I'm capable of that cruelty.

But am I capable of allowing two nations to fall into ruin because I love a girl?

The small voice in my head that sounds like my grandmother whispers, and what if it doesn't work out with her? How will you feel knowing you destroyed people's lives for nothing?

Grandmother probably wouldn't have ever uttered something so harsh, but my brain likes to ascribe all kinds of wise nuggets to her voice, like the rational logical part of my brain uses her position of authority to express itself.

Of course I'd never forgive myself for tearing apart anyone's life.

But here I stand, staring down a choice between ruining two lives and ruining far more.

My philosophy professors always told me the trolley problem was a falsehood that had no real life application, but here I am standing on the tracks and staring at the lever.

What a way to prove them all wrong.

It's as I always said it would be. There is no right choice. No ethical one. So which way do I go?

My phone rings on my nightstand from the other room and I can't bring myself to walk the ten feet it would take to pick it up.

Because it means I have to look her in the eye and tell her I have a chance to save her family but it involves marrying someone else.

Being a prince really sucks sometimes.

I stare at the wall as the sky darkens and the palace quiets. And then, I stand up and walk to my bedroom, closing the door between me and my problems for one more night. One more night before I have to look someone in the eyes and ruin their happiness forever.